We live almost next door to a junior school, so at particular times of the day we can hear the children; first thing there is a jabber of noise as they wait to go into school, mid morning there is playtime when they shriek like demented things, sometimes there is the sound of singing, then lunchtime with more demented bellows, screams and uproar, playtime in the afternoon, then the hubbub of the kids being met and greeted by parents and grandparents.
There are other things we notice about living so near to the school; the roads clogged with traffic at the start and end of the day, our little streets full of teachers and staff’s parked cars throughout the day, and pedestrian parents with their children, walking them to school and home.
At this time of year in September, it must be an exciting or anxious time for the children – some entering school for the first time, all of them moving into different classes, some with different teachers, new children arriving from other places, and those who are now the oldest suddenly realising they are top of the school – which can give them a feeling of superiority, or maybe with any luck responsibility, but it might also be the start of a sense that they will be moving on, out of their comfort zone, and into ‘big’ school in a year’s time.
I lived less than a mile from my junior school, and there were lots of children on my road going the same way every morning and afternoon; we went home for lunch, so there was lots of backwards and forwards – no car to give us a lift, and we weren’t allowed to go on our bikes. There was a lollipop man, Mr Bailey who would safely see us across the main road, although the traffic was negligible compared to today. Maybe my memory has blurred because I don’t remember all the mindless screaming and shouting that I hear every day now. We played a lot of games, and milled about, and the teachers or supervisors were quite strict so maybe we weren’t allowed to roar as our neighbouring children do.
At this time of year, the main playground activity was conkers, horse chestnuts on strings which you battled against others with. There were lots of running around games such as tig and stringer, and ball games with tennis balls – and maybe at the other end of the playground the boys used to kick a football about – some of us girls joined in but we weren’t very welcome. There were clapping games and hopping games and dancing games – plus new crazes such as American skipping. We used to skip with ropes, either individually or with a long rope between two people who turned it, but American skipping involved a long piece of elastic tied at the ends to form a loop; two of us would stand with the loop round our ankles, a yard or so apart, and the others would hop and lit the elastic back and forwards over the either side… I haven’t explained this very well, and I can’t find any videos of it, but I seem to remember it was fun!
Lois Elsden 
Is that you on the back row second from the left with the dark sweater?
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Yes that’s me… I haven’t really changed have I!
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Still as cute as ever! I would have shared my bag of candies with you, that’s for sure.
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Awww, thank you! We could have gone to Mr Bullen’s sweet shop and bought sherbet!
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How about a couple of gob-stoppers?
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As long as they are the ones which change colour!
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What were those licourise sticks that were like chewing on a twig from a tree. Or am I just dreaming about them.
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No you’re not dreaming, they are grown from bushes – and in fact they are beginning to commercially grow and harvest them again because licorice is becoming popular again.
http://www.telegraph.co.uk/gardening/gardenprojects/10958614/Could-liquorice-return-to-Britains-gardens.html
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I love liquorice!!
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Very interesting article. I wasn’t dreaming after all. Maybe I’ll plant some next spring if I can find the seeds. P.S. loved the gob stoppers that changed color. You had to keep taking them out of your mouth to see what color they had become. Wasn’t the last little bit jet black?
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Was the last bit a little seed? Maybe an actual aniseed?
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All you ever wanted to know about gob stoppers but were afraid to ask. In your bookstores now. By Lois and Dave. Copies flying off the shelves !!!!!!!!!!!!
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Do you also remember those liquorice shapes – tool sets, or smoking sets with pretend pipe and cigarettes made from desiccated coconut died a sort of tobacco brown?
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Yup. Can’t sell them in Canada now as they encourage kids to smoke.Legalized pot though and they keep on calling me to get some. Figure?
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Stupid, isn’t it!
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Not really. Need pot for my pain. Don’t recommend it for everyone.Great dreams too. Gonna dream gob-stoppers tonite probably.
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And a whole forest of liquorice sticks!
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If there was only one gob-stopper left in the world I would give it to you. Feel a song comin on. Where did I leave my guitar?
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How nice… the last gob stopper… do they still make them?
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In Canada they are called jaw beakers. I think gob-stopper sounds better.
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Definitely! they’d only break your jaw if you tried to crunch them!
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